The Portland daily press., 1887-11-19
Stage Malls, &C.
THE NEW cURATE.
New England Farmer.1

Now A>uBidho
"You haven't seen him yet? Well, that's
pity. He's quste a catch, I'm told; young,
handsome and single. Why don't you set
your cap for him, Matte? You've as good
a chance as the rest of them, and twenty
six is not old by any means"
She leaned over the garden gate as she
spoke, this veritable village gossip. l can
see her now, with her great poke bonnet,
from beneath which the clustering gray ring
lets peeped; the keen blue eyes, that seemed
to read your very thoughts; the trim little
figure clad always in ample skirts Of Quaker
Gray or sombre brown.
Never was there a wedding, funeral or a
christening in the village without this esti-
mable lady's presence. What a harmless
little body she appeared, and how incapable
of carrying about that wonderful budjet Of
information How nicely she impaired her
knowledge to her listeners, beginning with,
"Well, don't mind telling you," or, "They
do say, but of course you can't believe every
thing" and ending with, THAT'S between
you and me; it will go no farther"
was busy in the garden that morning,
training some early June roses; my thoughts
were not the brightest, scarcely in harmony
with nature, that was decked in one of her
brightest nantes. 1t was quite unnecessary
for Mrs. Briggs to remind me of my age; /
was thinking seriously Of it, Twenty-six
Not very old, to be sure, and yet not very
young TO be an unmarried woman. must
be content with fewer laurels, less conquests.
Unjust step out [ the field, as it were, and
leave the romance and the day-dreams to
younger and fairer girls.
1t mattered little to me whether the new
curate was young and unmarried, or portly
old fellow with a wife and grown daughters.
At heart | disliked this interfering old
woman who had broken in upon my reverie.
/ thanked her kindly for her advice, telling
her that at present had no intention of set
ting my cap for any one, not even the new
curate so saying, went back to my work
and the roses.
'There, Matte, don't get riledl OF course
it's nobody's business if you're going to
leave yourself an old maid; but take my
advice, and don't spend your time fretting
and worrying over Bob Preston, for he amt
worth it,"
She shook her head wisely, and was off
before had time to recover from the cruel
thrust that had opened the old wound-Rob-
ert Preston and the past.
had tried to guard my heart, to trample
under foot the old love. / could have
laughed at my girlish folly as il it were a
dream until thoughtless word had brought
back the page, like the dead risen to life
again, or a smoulderiDg fire that needed but
gentle breeze to make it into a burning
flame. One by one the roses dropped from
my hands. | was only weak woman. after
ali, as, covering my face with my hands, L
soDbed: ''Robert-oh, Robertl Why were
you false?"
1t all came back to me-that visit to Aunt
Martha, where first met Robert Preston, a
young student just returned from college.
cannot tell you all those bright, happy day
dreams; how l loved him, and waited for
that happy day when he would ask me for
that love. He read his answer in my tell
tale face before my lips uttered it.
so, engrossed with Roberts society, took
little heed of other matters, scarcely giving a
thought to the fact that young lady, the
daughter of deceased friend of my aunt's,
was going to make her home with u.s. She
came. From the moment l looked upon her
lovely face my happiness was gone. was a
pretty girl. fair and fragile, yet one might as
well compare a simple little daisy to full
blown poppy or rich red rose as my frail
beauty to this girls exquisite loneliness.
For time my love was changed.
laughed in my foolish heart at my doubts
and fears. At times would find bis serious
eyes wandering from me and resting admir-
ingly on the beautiful face of Kathleen Lee
No man could resist that wondrous fascinat-
ing face. She never encouraged him, but the
dropping lids, the faint flush, the trembling
Of the little hands, all told plainly that she,
too, loved him.
How / suffered In my mad jealousy L
grew to almost hate the child. He loved me
before she came with her beautiful flower
like face, to rob me Of that love. Was she